Shades of Grey
by Saeleth
Summary: A short conversation between Alanna and George, in which Alanna learns she doesn't know quite as much about her sneaky husband as she thought she did.


A/N: I manipulated canon a bit here. See in TQ, George has told Alanna and gets a hard time. Here he delays telling her. Mostly because Aly doesn't want her mum and big flashy sword over there muddling things up.

Disclaimer: I don't own this; all characters are Tamora Pierce's

George sat in his office, a stack of coded papers before him. He read the symbols with ease, but the coded message in his hand seemed to be causing him some trouble. Each rereading caused his eyebrows to rise higher 'til they completely disappeared into his hairline.

With a deep sigh, he muttered under his breath, "I'm going to have to tell Alanna this."

He didn't anticipate telling her. He knew he would have to come clean eventually, but his loyalties were divided. He loved Alanna, but Aly was his little girl, he'd been there when she was scared, for her first heartbreak (however hard she denied it), when she cried about Mother far away, when her brothers left her behind. He'd been there for all that, and would have given her the moon if she'd asked.

She asked for something considerably more difficult; her mother not knowing. He remembered the frantic search, keeping Alanna in the dark for her own good. He remembered his wife's anger. He could usually charm a smile and a laugh, and all would be right with the world. Not this time. This time he'd betrayed her trust. But she had relented when others intervened, reminding her that he did it for Aly's own safety and hers. But this little piece of paper, really only a few sentences, a handful of words, who knew they could be so much trouble? 

He loved the other two just as much, but Alan and Thom hadn't needed him. They saw their paths clearly and walked them with determination. He received messages and his spies kept him informed, but sometimes he saw a rift between the boys and him as they pursued lives unimaginable to him. Alanna was the one they looked to for assistance. She was warrior and mage, mother and confidante, while he was Father, the one with the unsavoury background. He took small comfort that Alianne at least, looked up to him. Until he thought of her, risking her life. Alanna, however, was a different matter; as much as he wished to, George couldn't stop her from charging into the fray. But he didn't think he could bear sitting at home, hearing how both his girls danced with danger, knowing what a single misstep would result in.

---

Alanna was in their small library at Pirate's Swoop where she sat on an upholstered chair, a mirror with faded roses resting on her silk clad lap. "Please, please show me my Aly, my little girl," she pleaded to the unresponsive, cold mirror.

George entered the cozy library, and with a slight frown on his tanned face, plucked the mirror from Alanna's lap. He noted how Alanna's head dropped, her face looked worn and tired. She'd also lost weight, her old clothes hanging off her once stocky frame. He wished she didn't worry so much He'd dropped many hints that Aly was as safe as could be expected, that she was resourceful and clever- without having to break his promise to Aly, which had been witnessed before a god no less! But he did wish his wife would pick up on his hints that were growing more and more direct.

"Lass, you worry too much. You need to rest. Aly is capable of looking after herself. Unlike you, apparently."

"George, it's no use. Everything I try gives me nothing." George tenderly lifted her head so her eyes met his. Her violet eyes were bright with unshed tears. They widened, and then narrowed suspiciously when she saw his grin. "George, what do you know-is it Aly?"

"Well it seems like the Copper Isles are out of our hair for a while" he remarked casually. He knew she disliked the Isles, ever since one of their delusional princesses had killed Faithful.

"George!" Alanna cried, running her hand through coppery locks cut short, "that has nothing to do with Aly!"

"Not interested in the Copper Isles? I assure you it's quite fascinating." George poured them both a cup of tea.

"Fine." Alanna said through gritted teeth, "tell me what coup you managed over there".

"I knew you'd be interested!" George said cheerfully, ignoring the venomous glare shot by his wife. "It seems the native people there overthrew their conquering overlords."

"Your spies had a hand in that I suppose?" Alanna asked, interested despite her annoyance. She disliked the Rittevons. Any thorn in their side had her approval.

"No, actually. The natives, called raka, tried to overthrow the Rittevon kings every generation or so. My agents were quite lax, apparently they thought it was just disquiet, nothing major. The raka seemed to have learnt advanced planning and the need for patience. There is now a Queen Dovasary on their throne, royal through both the old and new lines."

"Laddybuck, what are you dancing around?" Alanna tiredly responded. George could never just say what was on his mind. She sometimes wished he were more direct. She saw the stars through the window behind George. Somewhere, out there, was Aly looking at the same stars? George's voice interrupted her morose train of thoughts.

"Well I think we should go to the Copper Islands, get a closer look. Assess the situation for Jon and Thayet."

"George, I get seasick. Remember? What do you really want?" Alanna fixed her best glare onto her sneaky husband.

"Why must you be suspicious? I am just interested in the new spymaster. Clever woman, she orchestrated the whole raka rebellion. Opponent for me in wits." George said as innocently as possible.

Alanna was frustrated. She'd expended all her Gift to only see murky, grey fog. Her Goddess remained unresponsive to her prayers, and her husband just stood around making small talk, instead of setting a plethora of spies on the task, with him leading. She'd spent months worrying over her Aly, alone, in a bad situation and all George had done was worry about some small island rebellion!

"George, the war is over; I want us to dedicate our full resources to finding Aly! Not go on a pleasure jaunt to see if the new spymaster is up to mettle!" Alanna shouted. "George! No more excuses! Just tell me whats got you so eager to go to the Copper Isles?"

Meekly George said, "I just want to be there for our daughter's wedding. There-you ruined the surprise."

"What, George-I don't understand?" Alanna rested her head on her hands, dumbfounded. She nearly jumped out of her chair when understanding hit her "How long have you known?" she asked accusingly, violet eyes flashing.

"Ah, well, you know dear how she was captured by pirates and sold as a slave. That was easy enough to track. Then that summer, when I told you their Majesties wanted me to do some important spying over in Carthak, I actually sailed to the Copper Isles to retrieve Aly."

"Why didn't you tell me this? I'd have understood! Any hunch had to be followed. And if you went to get her, where's Aly now?" Alanna's voice broke.

George put a comforting hand on her silk-clad shoulder. "Dearest, I wanted to tell you everything. But what if I'd been wrong? It would have been so cruel, to raise your hopes and then be horribly wrong. It was heartbreaking enough for me! I found her, but she's a wilful, headstrong girl. Much like her Ma."

Alanna began to fondle the lace at her sleeves. "You found her, but then why isn't she here? With me. Where she belongs."

"Aly told me the Trickster had chosen her for a task. That she couldn't and wouldn't leave. I called on his debt to me to release her from any oath she'd foolishly taken, but to no avail. I spent as long as I could, pleading, cajoling, and begging! In the end I had to…to…to leave her there!" George shifted; uncomfortable, knowing his wife was processing this and would soon be very, very angry.

"You knew this whole time where she was?" Alanna's voice was frosty, and in her shock she hastily stood, knocking back her chair and started pacing. "You lied to me; I was worried sick. First you kept her disappearance from me, then the fact that you had found her? George, how could you?" George stood before her, shamefaced and silent. "Then you left her there? All alone? The Trickster is i _your /i _ God, couldn't you have gotten him to choose another? Why is that foolish chit even involved in the Copper Isles?"

George tried to watch impassively as his wife paced. Her temper was quick, but lately she had lost the energy to maintain it. Presently, she stopped her tirade.

"Sweet, listen to me please. I didn't tell you because Aly wanted that. She was busy overthrowing a monarchy, she didn't want you barging in, sword drawn, making a muck of things. I called in my favour, and Aly refused. Like it or not, our baby girl wanted to stay. That's why I think we should go and see her."

"She found her path so far from me. I missed so much. George!" Alanna's voice was soft now, George barely heard it, he opened his mouth to say something sympathetic and reassuring when she suddenly threw herself into his arms, her hands grasping his blue tunic. "I'm a horrible mother."

"Hush, you're not. Look at them. They are making their path in the world. They couldn't have done that without us, showing them how to," George soothed, stroking her coppery hair. She calmed down, they stood embraced for a while, taking comfort in each other.

Alanna always took comfort in their solid marriage. He was always there when she needed him. Wasn't there something else about marriages, she'd heard it recently-Aly!

"George, who is this man she is marrying? You must know that much at least." Alanna muttered into George's firm chest.

She once thought that he'd told her everything. Lately though he seemed to hide more things, for her own protection he said. But was that what he meant? Did he think she couldn't keep his confidence, that she would babble about it all over the battlefield. Despite their years together, there was much she didn't know about him. What else did he keep from her?

"A fine man. I met him over there. He is strong, dependable, loves her, and is utterly loyal." George replied, burying his face into Alanna's hair, enjoying the scent and softness, "I admit, his being a crow half the times is odd, but he's still a good lad." 

He felt Alanna stiffen in his arms. He'd wanted that piece of information to slip in unnoticed. He'd added it as a tail end, hoping she might overlook it.

"Dearest," Alanna said struggling to maintain a level voice, "What do you mean, when you say crow?"


End file.
